TR: These are the good years for Barb and me. We went next door to the Ludkes to look at their vacation pictures -a 400-frame Powerpoint slideshow about the Black Hills, with a recorded narration underscored by Fleetwood Mac. They said it would be about 3 hours, give or take. And then their laptop got left on the porch and got soaked by the lawn sprinkler. So they had to cancel the whole thing. We should have been happy. And then Barb and I went to the State Fair, and Barb got very quiet. (SHEEP, OFF, SS SIGH). Barb, what's wrong?
SS: Why didn't we go on a vacation this year, Jim?
TR: Gas prices, Barb. And there was no place we wanted to go.
SS: But here we are, the end of the summer, and look at us-we haven't done anything, Jim.
TR: That's the point of summer, Barb. You're not supposed to do anything.
SS: I mean look at these sheep, Jim. They're probably having a more memorable summer than we had.
TR: Memorable isn't always good, Barb.
SS: It's better than nothing.
TR: A car crash is memorable. A wisdomtooth extraction is memorable. I'll take this any day.
SS: I mean we almost qualify for Senior Day, Jim. We're running out of time.
TR: So what?
SS: Did you ever stop to think that the fair has a "Miracle of Birth" Center, but no "Miracle of Death" Center? Huh?
TR: Barb. I wonder if you've been getting enough ketchup.
SS: Ketchup, Jim?
TR: Ketchup contains natural mellowing agents that help you see that sometimes it's okay to just hang out. Because doing nothing helps us feel grounded. Just like ketchup.
These are the good times
To listen to the birds
And experience feelings
That are too deep for words.
Life is flowing
Like ketchup on deep fried cheese curds.
GK: Ketchup, for the good times.
RD: Ketchup, ketchup